Clandestine | 18+

8~The hill

Earned it- The weekend

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"Sometimes by acting you become the act"
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I stared at the blood on the ground. A blood, so red, so dark that I could see my own reflection in. A red, dark blood that used to run through someone's veins. A blood that gave life to someone I loved with all my life.

Blood that spilled because I caused the wound.

Blood that spilled because I took his life.

Blood that made the knife in my hand shake and blood that made me fall into the ground, my knees touching the wet and dark surface which was staining both my heart and hands. I screamed. A scream, so loud, so raw, so painful I never thought could come out of me. A scream of agony, a scream of hurt, a scream of betrayal and a scream of freedom.

A scream that held all. A scream that showed that I survived and a scream that showed that I just got destroyed.

A scream that took a life and a scream that in the same time took my half.

But was he really my half if it hurt being by his side?

But I still continued to scream, a scream so high pitched that could shatter a glass. I still continued to scream for the blood that was pouring on the floor.

I stared down at it refusing to see the face that laid in it.

And I screamed again, and this time? All the glasses shattered, and the room started getting smaller and smaller and blood started to fall onto me, blood that held memories.

And I screamed as I opened my eyes.

"Beathe in, breathe out." I whispered to myself as I kept shaking. I breathed in and closed my eyes. "It was just a dream." I smiled, trying to distract myself from the memories.

"What the fuck happened?" A concerned voice with a similar looking face appeared on the door of my, well his room.

I just stared at him wide eyed, my mouth parted, and my body shaking briefly, and I hoped that he wouldn't notice.

Okay, who am I kidding, he's a mafia don and is probably a master at profiling people as much as I am. And it wouldn't take a lot to understand I just had a nightmare.

I closed my eyes. Vulnerability was something I refused people to see, and that's why I'd rather drink myself to sleep than sleep normally.

But I have been busy, too busy to go out and have a drink. Too busy to act like I don't kill even though the fact that I do it without having any remorse should disturb me.

"Nothing. I'm okay." I said in a whisper.

A whisper said in my own voice, but that could barely pass as Clandestine's. Her voice, well mine, is strong, scary and smooth, but mixed with emotions? It's like having an ice cream in summer. Sweet but cold.

And I stilled.

This was the only person except Stella that I had used this voice after the age of 15.

This is the reason I don't let people talk to me after my nightmares. It brings me too close back. Closer than 2 years ago. It brings me closer to 15 years ago. Closer to who I was.

Closer to someone who is no longer there.

I opened my eyes and saw that the emotion that was clear on his face moments ago, was gone.

But he, unlike his expression wasn't. And it didn't look like he was planning to.

He just started walking closer, and I could do nothing except lay still.